


For You

by LauraScott94



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-07-02 18:28:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15802164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LauraScott94/pseuds/LauraScott94
Summary: Nicole is released from the hospital. A missing scene between 1x08 and 1x09. Canon Wayhaught. One-shot (for now).





	For You

**Author's Note:**

> A little something that I felt was missing between 1x08 and 1x09. Maybe a one shot, but probably more.  
> Warnings: adult language  
> Usual disclaimers – I own nothing but this story’s plot.

Snow was falling hard and fast the day Nicole was discharged from the hospital. It swirled around her as Nedley helped her into his cruiser, laying her duffle bag on the seat behind him before turning the heating on as high as possible. They drove in silence, the Sheriff sneaking glances at his Deputy as she peered out the window, transfixed by the white blur of the landscape. Houses appeared as shadows, the lights inside them barely peeking through the cloud that had descended over Purgatory.

When the car began to slow, wheel’s chains grinding the snow beneath them, Nicole stirred, drawing in a deep breath and exhaling. She closed her eyes as they nosed into her driveway, Nedley pulling in as close to her front door as possible before switching off the ignition.

Nicole didn’t move at first, not wanting to face the reality of her homecoming. Nothing waited for her. There would be no fire aglow, casting its golden glow across the room, thin tendrils of heat curling around her body. There would be no home-cooked meal; no hot drinks to warm her soul. There would be no one to welcome her; no one to watch over her at night. There would be no whispered words; no gentle caresses. There would just be her mind, replaying the past week on a constant loop, going around and around until the tears ran out and her body shut down. There was nothing here for her, and yet, there was nowhere else she could go.

‘Nicole,’ the Sheriff prompted, voice uncharacteristically soft, watching as the woman blinked slowly before reaching across to undo her seatbelt.

Her hand lifted from her lap, reaching out to the door handle, unlocking it before pulling it toward her, ignoring the sharp sting from the cut on her palm. She slowly twisted in her seat, pushing against the door to open it, frustrated by the weight of it. She heard Nedley’s door open, listening to his feet crunch in the snow as he removed her bag from the backseat and walked quickly to where she sat, too unsteady to stand by herself.

Her eyes followed her boss’ boots as they approached her, humiliation colouring her cheeks as she waited for help. But, before the Sheriff could reach her, another pair of boots entered the picture. They were much smaller, the dainty feet within them encased in a thick wool lining. She raised her head, eyes tracing the lines of the body in front of her, finally settling on the small smile on Waverly Earp’s face. Her mouth dropped slightly, lips parted, frigid air moving between them.

‘Hey,’ Waverly breathed, eyes seeking her out, waiting until Nicole was looking at her to step any closer. ‘Let’s get you inside.’

The women moved slowly, Nicole’s strained muscles shaking as they climbed the small flight of stairs leading to the front door. Nedley went ahead of them, waiting in the doorway and then supporting Nicole’s left side as she stepped over the slight lip of the door frame. Once she was safely through the door he let go, leaving Waverly to guide the woman to the couch as he deposited her bag at the top of the stairs outside her bedroom. He returned in time to see Waverly stand up, Nicole’s boots in hand, heading toward the coat closet by the door. He approached his deputy, crouching in front of her as he spoke.

‘I hope it’s okay that I called her,’ he murmured, watching as her tired eyes tracked the Earp’s movement before settling back on his face. He draws his lips to his teeth, squeezing them together in hesitation.

‘Thanks, Sheriff,’ Nicole breathes, reaching her unbandaged hand out to him, gratitude evident in her voice. A small smile forms on her lips, not quite reaching her eyes, but under the circumstances that was not unexpected.

With a deep groan Nedley rises to his full height, exchanging a brief word with Waverly before closing the door behind him. Nicole listens as the other woman moves quietly through the room around her, closing her eyes tightly, head hanging heavily.

The clicking of the gaslight gives way to the whoosh of ignition as the stove is lit, metal clanging slightly as the kettle is placed atop the flame. Cups are pulled carefully from shelves, cupboards closing gently after tea bags are pulled from boxes. The fridge opens momentarily before the door closes, glass jars inside jostling faintly. Feet shuffle on floorboards, gradually working their way toward where she still sits, head held up by her hands, elbows resting on her knees. Metal scrapes against metal with a high-pitched squeal and Nicole flinches, face scrunched as she lifts her head slightly. Waverly now stands by the fireplace, body frozen in place.

‘Sorry,’ she whispers, cringing as she pulls the poker completely free of the stand, stoking the bright fire she has built.

It takes a few moments to register what is happening in front of her. When realisation washes over her, Nicole hiccups, breath caught in a sob. Waverly’s head snaps up to look at her again, watching in concern as the other woman’s hand comes to cover her mouth, eyes wide and fixed on the burning logs.

‘Nicole,’ she murmurs, slowly approaching toward her, sitting on the small coffee table in front of the couch. She reaches out slowly, hand lightly brushing across the skin above the bandage on Nicole’s right hand. ‘Are you okay?’

Nicole lowers her hand, taking a deep, shuddering breath before biting her lip. Slowly she nods, eyes still transfixed by the crackling flames in front of her. They sit for a moment, both still, both silent. Their reverie is broken by the screaming of the kettle and, while Waverly rushes to quieten it, Nicole blinks tears from her eyes.

Waverly soon returns, two cups of tea in hand, placing them carefully on the coasters she had set out earlier. Settling herself on the couch, Waverly angles her body slightly toward Nicole, picking up her mug and leaning back against the cushions.

‘I put milk in yours,’ Waverly offers, hoping that her memories of Nicole’s tea preferences were accurate.

‘Thanks,’ Nicole croaks, voice caught in her throat. She clears it, turning her head toward Waverly, pursing her lips in an awkward smile. Their eyes meet momentarily before Nicole flicks hers toward the tea. It is sitting on the edge of the tabletop, as close to her as it could be without it falling onto the floor, however she knows that she will not be able to reach it. The muscles in her chest are still tender, two of her ribs cracked from the chest compressions that were performed upon her. Ever stubborn though, Nicole reaches forward, teeth clenched tightly against the pain, wincing visibly as the stitches in her palm stretch and pull. Despite this she perseveres, lifting the cup slowly. It’s heavier then anticipated and the muscles in her forearm protest, twitching violently. Nicole watches as the boiling liquid spills over the lip of the mug, splashing onto her right hand, bandage quickly absorbing the tea.

‘Jesus!’ Nicole swears, dropping the mug onto the floor. She recoils, hissing as the heat penetrates the material quickly, burning its way through her skin.  
Waverly moves quickly, all but throwing her mug to the table before reaching out toward Nicole. She grabs at her wrist, fumbling with the tape that secures Nicole’s bandage, unravelling it as fast as she can without hurting the woman further. She then takes hold of Nicole from under her arm while maintaining her grip on her forearm. She hauls the woman to her feet, quickly dragging her into the kitchen. The tap is turned on, and Waverly tests the temperature before thrusting Nicole’s hand under the water flow.  
Only then did she pause, noticing the beads of sweat blooming on Nicole’s forehead. Her eyelids are glued shut and she is bent forward slightly, mouth open as she draws in panting breaths.

‘God, Nicole, sorry,’ Waverly offers, reaching out with her left hand to sweep coiled strands of hair from Nicole’s face.

The other woman turns her head slightly, gaze not quite meeting Waverly’s eyes. She gives a tiny nod, lips twitching slightly in a half-hearted smile.

‘S’ok,’ she manages eventually, breathing evening out slowly.

After a few minutes Waverly reaches out and turns off the water, collecting a tea towel from where it hangs on the handle of the oven door. She wraps it around Nicole’s hand gently.

‘This might sting a bit,’ she warns, carefully squeezing around the appendage, drawing as much moisture from wet skin as possible.

The towel is discarded and Waverly’s cold fingers probe at Nicole’s inflamed skin, making sure not to use too much pressure. It’s the first time she has seen the wound that had been covered, and what she sees makes her feel sick. Seven stitches hold her skin together, pulling tightly on raised skin. A deep purple bruise discolours the skin surrounding the cut, areas of it garnished in the sticky discharge oozing from the gash.

Waverly’s face falls as she processes what she is seeing, tongue flicking out to wet her suddenly dry lips.

‘Come here,’ she manages, keeping Nicole’s hand in her own as she reaches down to pull out a chair at the kitchen table, easing the Deputy into the seat. ‘Do you have a first aid kit?’

‘Above the fridge,’ Nicole offers, words clipped.

Fifteen minutes later Nicole is back on the couch with a freshly bandaged hand. Waverly has cleaned the tea from the ground and thrown the soiled bandage into the dirty washing basket so that it can be reused. As she settles back onto the lounge she sighs, relaxing into the cushions behind her.

‘You alright?’ She asks Nicole, watching as the woman nods before turning slowly toward her.

Looking up slightly, still not quite meeting Waverly’s eyes, Nicole draws in a deep breath, sniffing away tears.

‘I’m sorry, Waverly. I’m so sorry.’

‘Nicole, it’s okay,’ she replies. ‘It’s just tea.’

‘No. Not the tea,’ Nicole continues, dreading the conversation that was about to happen.

It takes several long seconds for things to click in Waverly’s head. When she makes the connection, she frowns.

‘Nicole, no. You don’t need to…no.’

‘Waverly, I…’

‘Nicole,’ Waverly says, tone warning now.

‘I should have done more,’ Nicole says, voice barely more than a whisper. Before Waverly can respond she dives back in. ‘I didn’t know what he would do. I should have fought harder, but it hurt so badly. And then the radio – he ripped it out and, well, I couldn’t see properly. I don’t know why.

‘Nicole,’ Waverly breathes, watching tears slowly gather in the corner of the other woman’s eyes.

Suddenly Nicole’s gaze lifts, eyes locking with Waverly’s in desperation.

‘I didn’t know, Waverly. I didn’t know what he would do to her. I swear I didn’t know.’

‘Nicole, stop,’ Waverly implores, ‘This isn’t your fault.’

‘Yes it is. Yes it is, because I’m a cop. Protect and serve, right?’

‘No,’ Waverly soothes, scooting closer to the woman, folding her left leg under her body. ‘Nicole, this guy, he was…he was different.’

‘It doesn’t matter. I failed, and Wynonna nearly died. She could have died, Waverly.’

‘You died!’ It’s out of her mouth before she can think to stop it, and Waverly finds her own tears gathering, sliding slowly down her face. ‘Nicole, you died. You actually died, and you did it saving my sister.’

‘I didn’t save her though.’

‘Nicole,’ Waverly tries again, tone exasperated. ‘You did everything you could do, which is more than most people. And you did it to protect Wynonna. Not many people would do that for her.’

‘It wasn’t just for her.’

The confession slips out, and Nicole immediately feels herself shutting off again, uncomfortable with the silence that follows. A hand finds its way to her arm again, squeezing gently. It takes a few moments for Waverly to figure out how to respond. When she does, she moves slowly, careful not to startle the crying woman. She reaches her right hand up, finding the soft skin of Nicole’s cheek and gently turns her face toward her own. She lowers her own head, gaze searching Nicole out.

‘Thank you,’ she says, emphasising every syllable. ‘Thank you, thank you, thank you.’

She leans forward, reaching up to place a small kiss against Nicole’s temple.

Both women let out long sighs, both feeling completely exhausted. Eventually Waverly coaxes Nicole into lying down on the couch, laying a blanket over her as she closes her eyes and drifts off to sleep.


End file.
